


Why Everyone Hates You

by CravenWyvern



Series: It's Just A Game Of Chess [1]
Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Character Death, Characters to be added, Completely out of order, Deerclops, Drowning, Freezing, Gen, Maxwell is a Creep, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Strangulation, Suggestive Themes, Violence, WTF is wrong with Maxwell, headcanons galore, more to come - Freeform, sensitive topics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-10 12:57:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12912393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CravenWyvern/pseuds/CravenWyvern
Summary: There's only so much one can do from a Throne of tar and shadow.One such thing includes playing with the pawns (and the rooks and the bishops and the knights)





	1. Outdated Knight

**Author's Note:**

> And so starts a three part project I've been stewing on for awhile!
> 
> I'm excited!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The weather is rather nice today, isn't it pal?

The rain was coming down harder than ever, sky blanketed grey with heavy clouds. A roll of thunder rumbled overhead, brief flash of lightening seconds after attesting to the storms overhead travel.

WX78 would not survive this day.

It twitched, spasms in its circuits as water dripped in between the crevices of its metallic chalise. Puffs of smoke drifted from the cracks of its barrel chest, steam hissing out in pressurized shrieks, and its gears grinded on, the thrumming in its chest stuttering more frequently as water filled its insides, dripping from the leaves of the tree above.

Shelter was nonexistent in this rainstorm, another crack of thunder shattering over the drilling rain, and the robot twitched, hands clawing spastically at the ground, ripping dirt and grass up before the spark finally tapered off, letting its limbs go limp. Smoke rose from its joints, where water was seeping into the metal of its ball and socket limbs, and wires sputtered throughout its core, unable to process anything as it became waterlogged.

Code was trying to connect together in its cranium, its core chugging energy out only for it to be expelled in sparks by the steady drip of rain, and nothing was quite connecting right.

Something churned in it, a click and brief smattering of static as the robot twitched forward, one hand digging into the earth as the other pushed against the tree trunk, a sudden desperate move as it tried to sit up. Then the energy was gone in a harsh bang of sparks, exploded outward and flinging it back into a smouldering pile of metal and fried sensors.

“ERRO. ERRRR. ERRRRRRROR ERROEERR WATTTTTTTTTTRRRT. LVVVVVVVLSSSSSSS CRITT TTTTTERROR-”

Its speakers shrieked, a harsh, high pitched scream of broken noise that dissolved into buzzing static as a cloud of smoke started to rise from its facial openings, light flickering spastically for a moment before sparks shot from its head with enough force to smack its cranium back into the tree. Slivers of bark broke behind it, another shudder of badly connected commands ripping through its neurons and making its arms fling out for a moment, seizing and jerking as the sound of metal scraping against metal was interrupted by a heavy roll of thunder, lightning dancing out in the distance.

Its audio buzzed white noise, metal body collapsing as its core sputtered, the water inside its barrel chest sloshing around and seeping from the cracks of its body.

Something sparked together in its coding, only a moment before it was lost in the vibrating mess of its programming trying to initialize premade commands. Chaotic electricity raced through it, unbalancing its systems into garbled messes of broken code.

WX78 will die here.

For a moment the robot understood this, a rush in its circuits at its self preservation as it attempted to sit up again, but then another seizing of out of control electricity and sparks sent it crashing back, jerking wildly as its AI started to break down.

It wouldn't last long.

Parts of it were attempting to shutdown, to preserve any date before it unavoidably lost all power to keep itself working, but nothing its core tried to do was working; it was too waterlogged, soaked through and heavy with run off rain in its metal casing. Smoke was building up inside of it, escaping in small funnels as the pressure grew.

With the slow setting sun and gradual darkness descending, if it didn't shut off or the night take it first, the robot would combust and then exploud, mechanical pieces under too much strain and energy blowing outward in a shower of hot metal and sparks.

Somewhere, hidden in a protected library inside its metal skull, slowly drowning under sloshy cold water, was an understanding and wish to not die that way.

Unfortunately, the water was freezing its circuits and nothing could get through to its conscious, abiet thoroughly damaged, mind.

The sun continued to slowly sink under the horizon, the dark grey of the covering clouds hiding its decent, and the robot fell limply against the tree trunk, mud and stringy grass sucking at its exposed metal limbs. A puddle was forming under it, rain washing the mud caked on its blocky fingers away even as soggy muck stained its boots and backside, water dripping down its face and pooling in its sockets, dripping from its mouth opening and splashing onto its metal chest.

Something inside of it, still working if just barely, picked up audio differing from the rain and thunder. WX78 twitched its head, optics trying to clean themselves with a swipe that got stuck halfway, scraping harshly against glass before retreating back, droplet covered optics distorting its meager sight in the rain.

“Say pal, isn't the weather nice?”

Sensors briefly sparked with input, transmitting the smell of heady smoke and bitter tar, before another surge of electricity blew its processing out for good. Its optics tried to focus, some sort of understanding as it recognized it wasn't alone.

“Looks like you've been caught up in it for awhile. Enjoying yourself?”

WX78 twitched, was able to shift its head to thump against the tree, internal cameras trying to stabilize as water obscured its vision. Its hands tightened into fists, some sort of memory pushing through waterlogged circuits as it semi recognized its antagonizer. 

The rain didn't seem to affect him, as if passing right through to pool in the grass, and Maxwell grinned at the robots broken movements, more teeth than necessary making him look all the more threatening, the cigar in his mouth completely unaffected by the shower of water around him.

“Unfortunately I am not here for pleasantries, though I'm quite sure you have had a nice time in the rain.”

WX78 jerked, a code catching together as it scrambled against the ground and tree, trying to throw itself at the man even as a cloud of sparks burst from in between it's joints. Smoke curled in blackened shadowy clumps from the cracks in its chest, slipping out into the humid air.

A clawed hand pressed against its barrel chest, spread wide as the robot leaned heavily forward, the only thing keeping it from falling face first into the mud. Its hands curled and uncurled spastically, shaking as its core tried to compensate for the sudden movement, water sloshing from its optics and mouth opening as the pressure inside it increased.

“Careful there pal, don't want to be getting all muddied. How many little gears and cogs do you have in there that would just stop the instant some dirt got mixed in?”

Audio static buzzed from the automaton as it weakly struggled against being pushed back against the tree, kicking its legs before energy leaked in a burst of sparks and left them limp and useless. Its head tilted down, the lack of organized electricity taking a toll on its mobility, and it could only stare down at its chest and the dirt between its legs, water still dripping down onto it from the trees low hanging branches.

“Oh, did you have something to say? I couldn't quite hear you, maybe you need to speak louder?”

Its sensors were all but fried, everything but its optics flickering into nothingness, and a burst of white noise ripped from its soaked speakers, garbling with interference as water continued to seep inside its metal body.

It stuttered as a hand shot out and grabbed its chin, jerking its head to stare up at the Shadow King. More static played as it attempted to struggle, only able to twitch its arms from the mud for a moment before falling back, smoke now pouring from the sides of its cranium as it finally began to fail.

Maxwell tilted his head, glowering at the malfunctioning automaton as he took his cigar in hand and blew a stream of blackened smoke into the robot's face.

“Sounding a little garbled there, you feeling alright? A little under the weather, perhaps?”

Somehow his grin seemed to stretch, sharp teeth glowering close to WX78s face and pitch black eyes shining at the robot, the rain continuing to thump onto its metal body even as the man stayed unaffected.

“Let me help with that.”

The robot couldn't feel much, its body numb as most sensors switched and fluttered off into death, but it could see and parts of it were still sending signals, no matter how disjointed and broken they were.

When something wrapped around its fragile neck and started to squeeze, it didn't respond, not quite understanding. When there was a sudden harsh snap, a stuttering and blackout in parts of its cranium as wires and metal structures started to give, that was when the robot for a moment was able to process what was happening.

And then that too gave out, black claws curling into its wet wiring that connected its core to its processing AI, and with a sudden jerk they were torn out, a smattering of sparks and puff of smoke from the gaping hole in its throat. Last second code made the robot throw its hands up, twitching uselessly in the air for a second before flopping back with a wet thud, its head sagging to the side as sparks erupted from the broken exposed wires, only a few left intact.

“That feel better pal?”

The wires were discarded into the mud, frayed and forgotten, and Maxwell raised a hand to pat the robots silent head, grinning all the while as phantom smoke trailed from the lit cigar between his sharp teeth.

“Now with that taken care of, I have a favor to ask of you.”

WX78s AI was on its last legs, barely functioning and dislocated from the rest of itself, thoroughly confused and in the unknown. Its optics still functioned, for now, but nothing else was computing, disjointed from its libraries of data and slowly losing power from its lack of connection to a core energy supply.

Its vision darkened for a moment as a hand passed over it, trailing down and tapping its glass optics before sliding down its chin and torn out throat to rest on its barrel chest. The thrumming vibrations of its core were stuttered, long and drawn out as sparks buzzed from its exposed, broken wiring, and something clicked deep inside it before shifting. Steam hissed from its shoulders before suddenly cutting off, more clicking and grinding as automatic systems tried to function without a controller.

Claws drummed loudly with the drops of rain on the robot's chest, its energy finally starting to stutter out and flat line, and the Shadow King hummed thoughtfully, tapping his chin as another roll of thunder broke out above them, streaks of lightening in the distance dancing around as the sun started to disappear under the horizon.

“Well now, seems I may have a problem with your set up.”

Ignoring the twitching of the robot's arms, ignoring the rough grind from its chest, and it barely caught the ghost of a shadow hovering over it, leaning forward with claws scraping against its metal chalice and glide over its rusted shell, searching.

“I have a...need, for some of those pieces of yours. I do hope you don't mind?”

There was a moment of silence, save for the pounding of rain on the tree and thus on the robot, and WX78 sparked as its optics cameras started to fail, slowly shutting down as metal lids started to slide closed.

Too slowly, and it barely noticed the hand spread in the middle of its chest, barely noticed the sudden fade as the colors wavered and shadows flitted about the world, barely noticing anything.

At least, until suddenly one final alarm rang out in a shrill scream as its chest was breached, metal suddenly fracturing and splitting away as claws ripped right through as if a knife passing through butter. Code flared, tried to reach its higher functions but failed, and the robots optics went out with a spark. Pressure was suddenly relieved, unable to see the water build up gush out of its new wound, smoke curl out in thick black clouds, and its metal body, waterlogged and dented, sagged against the tree and mud, limp as water continued to fall over it through the trees unhelpful branches.

With a sharp yank, the Shadow King ripped out the rest of the robots consciousness, the last of its strength, and it seized for a moment with leftover, broken commands before it permanently sunk into the mud, head and barely held together neck listing to the side and hands upturned limply to the sky. The soaked core glowed in his hand, faint vibrations as it chugged on, its full submergence with the water not having a noticeable effect on it as of yet.

“All done.” He said, examining the glowing heartbeat in his claws before grinning at the robots collapsed corpse, free hand reaching over to pat its shoulder. The offset of weight made it waver before collapsing into a pile of scrap metal, rust and broken wires as water fell in sheets over it, mud sucking against every surface it had against the ground.

“Now, that wasn't so hard, was it?”

There was no response, and Maxwell stood up in one smooth movement, the rain storm going strong, clouds slowly crawling over as darkness descended over the world.

Adjusting his cloak with one hand, slicking back his hair and grinning all the wider at the complete darkness, the Shadow King hissed out a breath of smoke with only WX78s heart keeping a faint glow around his hands. Night rushed in, the light disappearing in a sweep of smoke, and the only sound in the darkness was rain clattering on an empty metal shell.


	2. Drowned Knight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Looks like you need some help tonight, right pal?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Doing these out of order and randomly, but of course I'm involving the Shipwrecked characters! (Hopefully I'm doing them right)

The full moon was the best thing to have happened all day.

Walani sighed, gaze falling from the blue glow of the sky to the shine of the still waves, balancing oh so precariously on her busted surfboard. Bits and chunks of wood fragmented from its chewed sides, pieces floating away just to sink into the depths, and she carefully slid down, knees pulled to her chest.

Damn sea hounds. 

She shouldn't have gone out so far, but the map she had found floating near her camp made it seem like it wouldn't be that long of a trip. A short go there and back, no biggie really, and while she was doing that she could fix up her map more, uncover the islands that lay out in the darkness. It really wouldn't take so long.

Except the sea hounds had been prowling out and about today. She really hadn't anticipated them, only had a makeshift spear on hand and her board, and now it looked like she may not have board sometime soon.

Aaaand she was out in the open ocean. Even when the sun had been out she couldn't see any nearby islands, no reefs or marshes to recuperate. No currents pushed or pulled her board, the water was deathly still, and she had no life vest to help. Swimming was good for when one could see a place to go; out here, she'd probably attract something large and toothy and hungry.

Walani crossed her legs, laying her elbow on her knee and resting her head in her hand, tapping her cheek idly as she tried to think of a way out of this. More of her board sunk, splintering off into the deep, and the full moon glowed on over the still water. It looked nice, almost pretty, except she didn't quite have the energy to enjoy the view when her board was about ready to shatter into a million woody pieces and leave her defenceless in the water.

She was facing the wrong way to notice, looking off into the distance and wondering if she could pinpoint an island out there or not, and ever so slowly a fog rolled out over the waves, cold and blinding. When Walani finally noticed something amiss, shivering at the sudden drop of temperature and realizing it was a little darker than it had been, the fog had oozed past her and her broken surfboard, rolling over the water and chasing away the shine of the moon.

Great. Now she couldn't see two feet in front of her. This day was turning out to be the worst, and that's saying something. She's had a lot of very, very, very bad days.

She looked about for a moment, pursing her lips and tapping her fingers against her knee, just about ready to give up for the rest of the night. Maybe in the morning she'd end up drifting somewhere, and the sun should get rid of the fog enough for her to see.

That was only if her board made it through the night. And, by the looks of it, Walani watching a chunk slide off into the depths with a few stray bubbles, that may not be the case.

Damn. And here she had thought she had been doing pretty good so far. She hadn't found a touchstone, no special magic item on hand, so it was probably going to be bye-bye to the set of islands she's found this time around.

Just as she was about to call it quits and risk sleeping on her rocky board there was a sudden disturbance in the water. The fog covered it, but a small wave caught her board, bounced her up as the water lapped over her boots and soaked into her clothing.

Walani didn't mind being wet, but whatever had done that may come over and finish what the sea hounds had started and she held her breath, staring blindly out into the white mist.

The still sea had come back to life, shallow waves pushing her board around, and more bits of wood chipped off, creaking under her weight. It wasn't dangerous, not something like a storm, but the surfboard may not be able to take much more of it and Walani had no idea what to do about that.

A glow out in the fog caught her eye after her board had settled, the waves small and barely moving her, and she squinted her eyes at the amber light bobbing ahead. The realization that it was a boat, that someone else was out here, was enough for her to sit up straight, raise a hand and call out to them. Hopefully she didn't sound as desperate as she felt; death was something she'd rather avoid, and death by ocean was something that she really, really didn't like.

No one wants to die from the thing that they love, and her surfboard was betraying her; no time to think about how miserable she probably looked, roughed up and damp with salt water.

“Hey, over here! I need some help!”

Carefully she stood up, balancing as her board creaked threateningly, and she waved her hands as much as she dared, eyeing her suffering surfboard and the slowly growing closer light.

It wasn't the first time she's seen someone else out here, and it wasn't the first time she asked for help either. The question of who it was this time, on whether they'd be asking for a reward of sorts for rescuing her, was in the forefront of her mind and she sure did hope it wasn't that damn monkey. Greedy bastard always took off with her doubloons and gold, not to mention any bananas she had on hand.

She needed her potassium man, and she was pretty sure a monkey, out of all the creatures here, could easily find their own in some tree or other, not steal from some survivor trying to not starve.

Maybe it was Warly? They haven't seen each other in awhile, and between the picky chef and the pirate she found his company better. He was fun, though a little stiff at times, and during the time they had worked together she liked to think she had gotten him to relax a little.

God it would be nice to meet up with him again. 

The light grew closer, an outline of a boat with it, and she narrowed her eyes and stopped flagging it as she tried to see through the fog. For just a moment, mist obscuring everything but dark silhouettes and the small amber glow of a boat light, it looked deserted, no one on its rather small deck.

And then she blinked and there was a figure, tall and dark, not even rowing the obviously sailess boat, and something curdled in her gut at its approach.

This didn't feel right.

At its approach the fog seemed to recede, pulling back in humid curls as the moonlight fell through, and small waves from the wooden row boat bumped her crumbling board, almost losing her footing and having to wave her arms out to catch her balance.

When she looked up again, she found herself gazing up at someone.

“You look like you're in a spot of trouble, pal.”

Walani's confusion was visible, squinting her eyes at the man as his boat drifted a little closer, leaving a good few feet of open water between them. Why did he look so familiar?

“That's kinda obvious man. You going to help me or what?”

The guy had a cigar, she realized, again that feeling of dread settling over her, and he seemed to be taking his time answering her, raising a hand to remove the cigar and blow smoke slowly out of his mouth, flashing her a smile.

Those were some sharp teeth, right there.

Walani frowned, reconsidering the idea of being rescued by a complete stranger. This was giving her some really bad vibes.

“Of course I am. What do I look like to you, a sadistic savage going out of my way to watch a young lady drown in front of me?”

Wow. That sure was specific.

Her board wasn't sinking, not yet, but water splashed over her feet and Walani glanced down at its progress, chewing her bottom lip at how she definitely couldn't survive the night on it.

“You not doing anything but talk isn't helping. That boat of yours can hold two, right?”

His boat drifted a little closer, the lack of current or paddle making her more suspicious, and oh this guy was really fucking tall.

He stared down at her, still with a smirk on his face, teeth almost bared at her, and her gut flipped at the sudden heavy feeling in the air, the fog in her peripheral vision curling closer, so much darker than it originally had been. The full moon's light seemed entirely gone, somehow, only the boats torchlight keeping the darkness at bay.

“Why yes, of course it can. A tight fit, perhaps, but I assure you-”

He leaned forward, ever so slightly, and he wasn't even remotely close to her but it almost felt as if he was right in front of her, invading her space, causing her to lean back as her board creaked threateningly. That smile of his, almost too many teeth to be comfortable with, sent a horrified shiver down her back.

“-it will hold perfectly fine.”

Something shadowy and dark flickered in the corner of her vision, fast and faded, and very suddenly Walani decided she'd take her chances against a sea monster than whoever this guy was. 

“Welp, ya know, I think I'm doing pretty good actually.” Her voice may have been a little more high pitched than usual, her nervousness bleeding through, but she kept her face steady and ignored the feeling that something was just behind her, watching her. Goosebumps rose on the back of her neck, trying to keep a straight face as she talked, meeting his eyes.

He had no whites, only shiny black pupils swallowing everything up. Either extremely high (she doubted that), or this was not what it seemed at all.

“You can go along your way, I'll be just fine-”

“Oh, but were you not just waving me over a few moments ago?”

His interruption was a little sudden, and he gave a very obvious glance to her slowly sinking board, the water lapping at her boots and swallowing bits of slivered wood.

“And I do not think that little piece of driftwood will be holding you for long.”

She waved her hands in a gesture she tried to make as relaxed as possible, even as her heart thudded in her chest at the thought of having to board this guy's boat. She'd rather take her board going out from under her than get any closer to him.

“I know a lot about surfboards man, it'll be fine.”

Even as she said that a crack started to appear on one side of the soaked wood, creaking under her feet and sinking a little lower. She tried to smile to show that everything was under control, but he looked rather unconvinced at her attempt.

“Are you sure?”

He fiddled with his cigar, watching her carefully, and when was the last time this guy blinked anyway? His boat moved to the side, just a little, and the small push of the water made her board move under her, almost losing her balance as the crack became bigger and it started to feel a lot less stable than before.

“I'll be fine!”

She just wanted him to leave, before it fully went out. She'd take death over this creep, but with her luck he'd try to fish her out if he saw-

And with that thought in mind the very much abused surfboard ripped in half with the sharp snap of wood.

For a second she glimpsed the man suddenly lean forward, baring his teeth in a sharp grin, and then the water rushed up to meet her and she had time to hold her breath before-

Being suddenly jerked right back up, the cold water only having greeted up to her knees.

For a second she was confused, and she stayed confused as she realized that she was tightly bound. Walani struggled against the shadowy strands that had wrapped around her, hands tightly clasped to her sides and legs kicking out in the air above the water, a huge tendril emerged from the depths to keep her aloft.

She's seen these things before, black shadow monsters that would slide through the water unhindered, how they made the world lose its colors and waver before her eyes before they tangled her board up in shadowy strands and dragged her under. 

In this situation, she really shouldn't be seeing one of them, or was at least pretty sure she wouldn't see them. They only appeared when she was doing less than well mentally, not when she was just in danger physically.

And Walani was fairly certain she was sound of mind right now.

“My, you sure are stubborn. Here I am, offering help after you called, and yet you wish to dismiss me?”

The tendril jerked forward, squeezed the air from her lungs as she fought it, and she gasped for air as she suddenly was dangling right in front of him, almost face to face. He seemed to consider her, shiny eyes unblinking as something dark and slimy started to slither over her neck, the tendril curling around her throat and burning her skin with icy cold shadow.

She was able to find her voice for a moment, trying to lean away from the thing around her neck and kicking her legs for a minute, hoping to catch the tentacles base with a sharp kick.

“I don't know who the fuck you are but-”

The tendril around her throat tightened, cut off her words and air, making her wheeze nothing before a hand was suddenly on her chin, pulling her face back to look at him. Something like displeasure was on his face, frowning tight lipped at her, and he glowered at her for a moment.

His free hand took his cigar, fiddled with it and glancing at it before turning back to her, dark spots dancing in her vision as she fought for air, felt the slimy tentacle tighten around her whole body, her legs finally going limp.

Then it suddenly loosened, a sudden rush of air as she choked, and the man leaned in and blew smoke right into her face, grin crawling wide as she coughed and choked on it. He leaned back, almost satisfied at her distress, and Walani couldn't even think straight just yet, still trying to get oxygen back into her lungs. Whatever that cigar was, it definitely wasn't normal smoke she had just inhaled and a film had settled on her tongue, bitter and tasting like tar every time she swallowed.

“Such an ungrateful wench. I should've just let you drown.”

He said this almost excitedly, grin growing as she gulped in the sea air, and Walani looked at him with still watering eyes and regretted ever having followed that damn map. No treasure chest was worth a meeting with this sadistic weirdo.

“But then, that would be such a waste, wouldn't it?”

He leaned back, seemed to think as he puffed on the cigar, and Walani eyed his boat and carefully tested the tendrils grip on her, squeezing her hands into fists. If she could just get out of this things grip, maybe…

“Ah, let me offer you a deal, pal.”

He was keeping her gaze, watching her, and she stopped glancing at the boat. No need to get his suspicions up; she didn't need to be choked again (god this guy was a creep) and having him realize she was trying to escape would ruin everything.

The thought that the shadows may tear it apart the instant she pushed him overboard and tried to paddle away was on her mind, but she ignored it. If it came to that, death would be better than being around this guy longer than she already was.

“I'll let you,” He gestured this, pointing to himself and then her, smiling all the while, “live. I'll even give you a boat, or a new board even, whatever you want, and maybe even some supplies to go with it. A few maps, treasures, food, you name it. Whatever you wish, pal.”

His boat drifted close, way too close, and she was way too close to him now, the smoke of his cigar drifting near her face and tainting the air. The tendril of shadow hadn't tightened, but hadn't loosened either and she carefully pushed against its vice grip with her arms, hoping that if she moved quickly enough it would drop her.

“If.” 

He said this loudly, smoke curling from his mouth in a hissed breath. Walani recoiled at his hand suddenly on her face, cupping her cheek as he leaned forward, face to face as he stared at her with pitch black eyes. Thoughts of escaping stopped suddenly at the invasiveness of the movement, at the freezing cold of claws against her face, and her heart pounded hard in her chest.

“If you allow me a few...services.”

There was a sharp coldness to his voice, how close he had gotten to her, and Walani froze for a moment as she realized just how bad of a situation she was in.

And then her face hardened, her own snarl as she struggled violently against the shadows hold, and she kicked her feet as the tendril wavered against her sudden movements.

“What the fuck, you really think that I'd just accept something like that!? You fucking creep, as if!”

And with that she spat at him, struggling in the tendrils shaking hold.

The shadow seemed to be less solid, at least for a moment, and Walani looked down and tried to free her arms just as it suddenly tightened around her, knocked the air from her lungs as it squeezed her windpipe and crushed around her chest. It didn't stop her from continuing to kick at it, trying to use the energy she had to get it to let go, and she barely acknowledged the man as he wiped at his face and frowned at her, cigar held loosely in one hand.

“I suppose I should have expected this.”

The tentacle tightened almost unbearably, bending her spine as pain bloomed in her chest and arms, black spots crowding her vision out as she started to gag for air, the energy she had going out.

Claws suddenly grabbed her hair, yanked her head up to meet his, eyes watering as she tried to breath.

“Know this then; I would have been much more gentler than Them.”

It was the last thing Walani heard before the tendril tugged her downward, splashing straight into the icy water and the inky darkness.


	3. Frozen Knight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone likes to have company on cold nights, don't they pal?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of the reasons I started writing this was because there were so many stories of Throned Maxwell being a horrible person to Wilson (and sometimes Wes), but almost nothing about the other characters. If Wilson (and/or Wes) was being tortured, wouldn't the others be suffering the same way?

The moans of the Deerclops echoed throughout the forest, harsh and testing her will.

As she ran, hoping to find at least some pigs, maybe a cave to hide in, Willow fought the urge to just set the entire damn forest alight. Too much at stake with that idea.

The morning light reflected off of the fresh snowfall harshly, bright and almost blinding as she kicked it up in her sprint, and another groan rang out behind her, way too close for her liking. There had to be some pig houses out here for it to be distracted by, maybe even a walrus camp, it shouldn't be so focused on her of all things!

God what she would do for someone like Wigfrid to be around! With the viking she'd at least have a chance of killing the thing, but she was alone this time around, and she had left everything back at camp like a moron the moment she had heard the giants wheezes. It was stupid, rashly deciding her camp was more important than her life, and she had been putting faith in the fact that she could lose it out here but now it looked like she was on her own.

Willow was not stupid, she knew she couldn't topple that thing by herself, but outrunning it was near impossible once it set its sight on a target. 

And for some insane reason, it had decided she was the most interesting thing out here for it to step on. 

God she hated the Deerclops with a passion. At least the others were a little easier to deal with, and she had something in common with the Dragonfly!

Cold air puffed into clouds from her mouth, the cold sending a sudden shiver down her spine, but she kept going. Only a threadbare puffy vest and worn hat on her head, not even a thermal stone, but if she could just lose this damn thing then-

The crack of bending trees echoed behind her, the very ground shaking and almost throwing off her balance and she pinwheeled her arms as the ground bucked under her feet. Snow fell in piles from the pine trees, loosened with every giant step, and she swung around to gauge how close it was, pigtails swinging around as a wheezed moan roared throughout the forest.

Willows heart dropped as the creatures great eye looped down to her, bulging and flecked with blood veins as the maw under it gaped with strands of saliva, nose twitching as it stilled above her. She felt frozen, staring up at the Deerclops quivering pupil, the world wavering as she grew light headed.

Then it breathed, a huge huff of frozen cold wind going straight through her old winter clothing, shaking the trees of their snow, and she shook her head frantically as her belly twisted and with that turned and took off, running with everything she had.

Full grown. The damn thing was full grown, bigger than ever as it had leaned over the forest pines, practically on its knees as it had glowered down at her.

When was the last time she had seen one reach that size?

It had to have been before she had met the others, before she had found that stupid portal with its stupid face, before she had realized exactly what sort of mess she had gotten herself into.

Winter had been so much harder back then, hadn't it?

There was a bellow behind her, harsh and drawn out and so very cold as more wind was whipped up from its very breath, and then the world began to shake as it moved. She tripped over things hidden in the snow, logs and rocks and fallen tree branches, gasping the icy air and sweating from the exertion, chill under her mostly useless clothing. She should have made a damn thermal stone when she had the chance, not shrugged and decided this was good enough! 

The past winters with the others had made her grow soft, made her feel almost invincible against this world. Winter was a simple affair, of seeing to food and knowing that one had back up for the winter giant.

And for some God awful reason she had totally disregarded the fact that she had no support, that she was alone out here!

As if winter was as simple as it had seemed, surrounded by people who'd watch her back as she watched theirs.

And here she was, just about ready to be a giants squashed dinner. A Willow pancake!

Willow tucked down her head and gave it all she got, sprinting and trying to control her breathing, trying to keep focused, to not look at the so very flammable forest surrounding her, snow no match against hot flame, young and old wood alike vulnerable to clinging, spitting fire. Her camp was back there, hidden away among trees, a precaution _someone_ had once begged her to remember, and now she deeply regretted listening to that idiot.

She fought wolves, did not hide from them like a coward! Pigs could not climb but they could knock a tree down easily and so could enraged beefalo. There was no reason to have surrounded herself by this damn forest!

And yet she had this time around, had remembered and thought, oh, it won't be so bad, maybe it'd help! God help him, she was going to throttle that man the next time she saw him! She was an idiot to have listened, but that bastard just doomed her with his “logic”!

The giant wheezed overhead, and she could feel the hair on the back of her neck, exposed from the vests bristly collar, rise at the knowledge that it could see her, did see her. 

The itch to grab her lighter was growing, it safely hidden in an inside pocket sewn into her vest, and it weighed heavily against her as the thought of acting with flame grew.

But she had run without supplies specifically to save her camp, and burning this place down would null every bit of precious energy she had wasted on this fiasco.

The ground shuddered under her feet, a thump of snow nearby as a tree trembled its leaves free from ice, and suddenly there was a harsh wave of sound and she stumbled, tripped into a pile of snow.

Willow wasn't cold enough yet and she kicked her way out, sweeping her gaze about as she stood up, legs trembling as goosebumps rose on her skin and her nose started to feel a little clogged up, swiping the snow from her clothing as fast as she could.

The shadow of the Deerclops was above her, over her, and it was so much bigger than it should be, so much bigger than anything alive should be. How old must this thing be, to reach that size?

She caught a glimpse of the forest to her left, or rather the lack of forest, flattened trees and massive sculptures of ice rising from where a clawed hand dragged against the earth, and with another wheeze the claws rose, high above her.

No telling if the thing would miss again, no telling if she wasn't just about to become a Willow popsicle, but she was already running, adrenaline spiking and fading the cold from her mind as she pumped her legs through the thick snow.

Trees were less around here, she had to be coming to a plain of some sort, maybe the beefalo could be some help-

Another gasp of horrid noise behind her, grating inside her skull, and there was another huge muted bang, a thump that rumbled in her chest and bucked the ground under her, almost throwing her into the air as the icy sharp noise of forming ice echoed, shattered the clogged noise of snow winter and she tried to roll, to hopefully get out of the attacks path-

Snow covered her vision for a moment, a bellowing moan above her, around her, everywhere, and for a split second she saw the tree in front of her right as she slammed into it, lights going out with a sudden splash of pain.

\---

She didn't know how long she's been out.

Willow blinked, skin numb as the cold air plumed from her mouth with each exhale, and for a moment she stared out at nothing, a dull ache pounding in her head. What was she doing out here, in the snow?

It was evening, dusk settling over the white snow, and she narrowed her eyes at something off in the distance, still trying to get her thoughts into order.

Then something groaned, a hissing wheeze and brush of a cold wind above her, the tree bending under the force, and everything clicked back together very suddenly. She was looking at a leveled forest, ice spiraling everywhere into towering sculptures. Rugged furrows in the snow covered earth attested to the claws that had caused all this.

Willow shakily stood up, her legs feeling like jelly and stomach twisting as she used the tree behind her to help her up. When was the last time she had eaten?

The snow fell from her clothing, vest soaked and cold while her hat did little to help with the odd rhythmic wind around her, and she shivered for a moment. Then her hands flew to her pockets, checking everywhere before she finally found her lighter in her vest, pulling it out quickly and flicking it on, hold the small flame close to her chest. 

It didn't help with warmth, but just the sight of the little determined flame, flickering in the cold breeze, was enough to settle her racing pulse and fill her chest with assurance.

She had to get back to camp; with her clothing as it was, she wouldn't last the night, even with her flame. It was obvious the Deerclops wasn't chasing her anymore. Time had passed, and it must have wandered off, perhaps thinking her dead.

Good god she was really lucky. Willow brushed a hand over her head, wincing at the sensitive pain and the bump that had formed under her bangs, but there was no blood. She was really, really lucky.

The most she'd have to do after this was take it easy. A concussion was no joke, no matter how severe it was. 

Knocking one's brains about didn't help with surviving in the slightest, but it looked like this time she had been saved by the slip up.

Maybe pretending to be dead would be helpful later, with some other monster instead. 

Willow kept her lighter close, the small flame grazing her vest every once in awhile, and her footsteps sunk into snow, crunching cold ice with her stiff boots. Everything about her was cold, shivering as she swiped a hand through her flame frequently, the heat a welcome bloom before the ice sucked it away.

Now the worry was she may not make it to camp-

A huge gust of cold wind blew around her, almost pushed her back, having to grasp at her loose hat and using her vest to try and shield her flame as it blasted by her, hinted with a sickly stench.

The forest stretched ahead, marked with more crystals of piled ice that speared to the sky, and swathes of bristling trees silhouetted dark by the setting sun barred her path. She sighed, wrinkling her nose at the strange smell as she tried to remember which way was to her camp.

As she started walking, protecting her flame as best as she could, something started to nag at the back of her mind. Willow glanced up at the almost mountain of trees that distanced before her,

That hadn't been there before.

Willow stared as the trees rose and fell in deep rolls.

What.

Another gust of stinking air blew over her, almost snuffed out her light, and Willow gagged as the smell intensified. A wheeze of sound, her eyes watering at the stench of what could only be compared to rotting meat but much, much more worse, and Willow stumbled back the way she had came, suddenly realizing exactly what she had been walking towards.

Just as the smell tapered off, finally getting out of the aura, Willow suddenly saw the shadows of the trees ahead of her grow longer, light fading darkly. Night was coming.

And then the wind whipped up, stuttered with a dull rumble, and Willow froze as the weight of something fell on her shoulders, her vision flickering as the hair on her neck rose.

The ground shook, not quite as harsh as it had in the chase, and Willow shivered as more cold wind blew around her, tainted by the stench. Her lighter flickered, one hand keeping it close to her chest and the other cupping the flame, hints of warmth licking her fingers. 

She should run.

She should really, really start running.

Right.

Now.

Willow slowly turned around, freezing cold as she hugged the small fire to her chest, and looked up into the great eye of the thundering giant. 

Its pupil rolled, looked this way and that frantically, flickering about in so much opposing energy compared to its stiff, silent body that loomed massively overhead, the setting sun silhouetting it with a shadow that covered the forest. It bulged at the sight of her, red veins darkening and pupil dilating drastically before suddenly shrinking into a dark point, and the Deerclops leaned forward.

Willow took a shaky step back, hand tight around her lighter, flame causing spits of steam to rise from her vest and wet clothing. She shook, not just from the cold, gaze locked upwards into the giants one eye, and everything in her was screaming to run.

But that heavy weight clutched at her shoulders, flickers of dark formed shadows in her peripheral vision, and it was getting so, so dark, legs locked stiff under her and heart racing in her chest.

The Deerclops stared down at her, the huge waves of exhaled breath replaced with sluggish breezes of ice cold wind, the sickening smell of whatever had settled in its gullet for who knows how long stagnating the very air with every rise and fall of its bristled chest. 

Willow couldn't move, staring up at the giant's eye.

The giant started down, and made no move to squash her flat.

Heart thudding hard in her chest, the pull to continue looking up at it hooked into her skull and keeping her locked into place, Willow did not notice as darkness descended over the both of them, the sun giving a last farewell before sinking under the horizon.

She also didn't notice the sounds of crushed snow underfoot, slow strides creeping up behind her, a shadow sliding elsewhere in the darkness of night to a quiet stop.

The cyclopean eye glowed ever so slightly, locking her into place, head tilted up and skin numb with the cold, just barely keeping a grasp on her lighter as the freeze started to settle into her limbs.

A flash of light, in the corner of her vision, and then another, and a part of her recognized fireflies, awakening in the darkness. For a second she tried to tear her gaze away from the floating orb above her, to look at the bugs, to try and organize her forgotten thoughts into an escape-and-stay-alive plan, but she got as far as turning her head before a huff of frozen air rushed over her, eye leaning forward, the pupil locked upon her face.

Her hands were going numb.

The fireflies floated close, not enough to touch the still living, abiet feeble, flame in her hands, cupped protectively even as shivers started to make her arms unsteady, and Willow swallowed thickly.

These things were brutal, harsh killers. Deerclops delighted in the destruction of everything and anything around them. Their very auras cracked apart minds like the shell of an egg, leaving the yolk vulnerable to its claws and the formed shadows alike, and she could almost feel it trying to peel her apart, the heightened all darkness around her no aid in protection at all.

She was going to die here, by darkness or shadows or the damn giant itself.

And for no good reason either.

The air was too cold, everything blue tinged and she trembled, hands all but numb as she fought the giants hold. The flame in her hands couldn't fight off the ice in her bones, only curling pathetically in her palm as she shook.

Willow was going to die.

Something crunched the ice nearby, a slow tread growing closer, and she was too preoccupied to respond to the new threat, only clenching her fingers around her most important procession as tightly as possible.

“You having fun pal?”

Willow stiffened, still stuck looking up at the giants all encompassing eye, still stiff and slowly freezing in the small ring of light her lighter provided, mind still slowly bending under this creatures will.

But she knew that voice.

No matter what may be trying to dig and break down the barriers of her will, Willow knew exactly who that voice belonged to.

“Isn't it nice, having company on such a cold winter night?”

She couldn't see him, couldn't turn and rush him, claw at the man she knew had stuck her here, had ruined her end of the deal and cheated. If only she had a spear and that this god damn giant would just drop dead, then she'd be ripping him to shreds, part that stupid grin right off of his stupid face, along with his whole damn stupid head.

Snow crackles behind her, close, long strides forward, and she tried to glare at the eye above her, trembling with a mix of rage and cold and the wavering fear that mixed unnaturally in her head.

But the heavy weight of darkness seemed to increase, a huge weight shuddering over her, not pain but a sudden dull of the senses, and she almost lost her grip on her lighter, hands shaking fitfully, the flame unprotected and so very weak.

The man in the darkness seemed to get closer, voice right behind her, as if spoken right next to her ear.

“I wouldn't upset your friend pal; they have such a short temper.”

There was a huff of cold air, a wheezed wind that almost gutted her shallow flame, hoarse and loud and so very heavy and dark.

Willow wavered on her feet, stuck gazing upward at the giant, her vision losing focus as she grew lightheaded.

The pupil seemed to shrink even more, a pinpoint dot so very small, and with that her balance left and Willow tipped to the side.

But she didn't hit the ground, into the freezing snows embrace.

Hands were on her shoulders, icy cold and clawed uncomfortably tight into her vest, and even with her legs numb and weak she was brought back upright, fireflies darting around her, still frozen staring up at the eye glowing faintly in the sky. Something brushed around her legs, icy shadow that flickered about in the firefly light, and ghostly pale eyes blinked at her from the dark, untouched by the bugs flickering light.

“Can't say I didn't warn you. They are quite picky with their friends, no?”

The question seemed to be aimed up at the unblinking giant, and no answer was given, only a faint wheeze of exhaled air that blew the stink of rotten death over them.

The chuckle behind her, claws tightening painfully on her shoulders, sent a shudder up her spine, disgust nipping through the odd muffled feeling that threatened to consume her from the pupil that kept her gaze.

It took a moment, her hands frozen numb and unfeeling, to realize that her lighter was not in her hands. 

Something in the way she stiffened up, sudden absolute terror at losing her light source, at losing her only tie to everything she was and had been and will be, made the claws on her shoulders loosen up, one idly trailing on the back of her exposed neck.

“Lose something, hm?”

The cold was making it harder to breath, her own panic suddenly overwhelming, light gone and no warmth at all, and she almost was able to tear her gaze away from the giant, almost was able to start moving, almost was about to fight-

When suddenly she had something in her frozen hands, icy cold metal barely getting through, and the realization of familiarity of the shape and grip was almost enough to make her start crying.

The flick of a shadowy tendril brushed over her wrist, oddly slimy but so cold it left a stinging reminder through the thick numbness of her skin, and the jolting realization of how close the demon behind her was, claws on her shoulder and claws dragging lightly against her neck, was almost enough to send her crashing down again. The giant breathed heavily, a gust of cold stinking air, and she couldn't help but gag, the muscles in her neck stiff and frozen from her posture, face turned up to the sky and unable to look away.

“You don't want to be losing such a precious memory, do we pal?”

The claws weren't the only thing touching her now, tendrils brushing against her stiff arms, keeping her standing as more sweeped her legs.

Her breath fogged in front of her, shuddering with each icy stab in her lungs, painfully hard pounding of her heart in her chest, and she still could not move, cyclops watching stiffly, unbothered by the nights swirling darkness.

It couldn't be said that she was terrified, but Willow was shaking with the faint tinges of panic, of helplessness, but most strongly a hatred of the monsters before and behind her.

No matter what happened, she'd find a way to make them both suffer, and horribly at that.

Perhaps it was her lapse in willpower that made such a concrete decision, shaky and strained under the weight of the giants steadyfast influence, but nonetheless Willow was powerless right then and there and a vow of vengeance formed.

The claws pulled away from her for a moment, just a moment, another breath and stuttered heartbeats, feeling light headed and slow and oh so very cold, and then they were on her stiff arms, circling around from behind her.

They trailed stinging ice right through her clothes, touching her goosebump ridden skin with sharp edges, and there was a weight behind her, pressing close.

Willow clung to her lighter and boiled underneath the slow encroaching ice that was suffocating her, killing her so very slowly. She was going to make this demon suffer, for all the times she has died down here, for all the times his creations had ripped everything she had apart, for all the times he has appeared before her and smirked and mocked and stalked her in the night, whispering sneers and ghosting tendrils and shadow hands much too close for her liking.

The Deerclops seemed to have seen something, the pupil trembling as it kept her still, and the next exhale from it was billowing snow and ice, hoarse and slow as it moaned.

There was no breath of air near her, no sense of something behind her besides the arms slowly encircling her, claws spread over her arms and brushing her sides, and she shuddered in cold disgust and hot rage as a voice rose next to her ear, everything in her slowing down, mind straining to keep together under the giants will.

“Say, how about a deal pal?”

Claws nicked her vest, her own hands tightly keeping her almost out lighter against her chest protectively, and then trailed ice lower, brushing her elbows and resting lightly on her hips, talons digging into her clothing.

If she had more thought process, wasn't practically frozen over, Willow would have been poring over what exactly she would do to this demon the instant she got her hands around his neck.

“Well, perhaps not so much a deal, but more of a...choice.”

The cyclops shifted, huge eye glowering down upon her, and she could feel her heartbeat slowing, every breath marked with stinging pain in her lungs. She felt sluggish, a burning in her chest and a raging in her mind that was slowly but surely becoming dulled over with static snow.

Claws pricked against her skin, weight pressed against her back and leaning against her, and it was just so, so cold.

“You can either stay here with our dear hungry friend, to collapse into the snow and then be messily devoured in a very drawn out, painful death, or…”

Willow was too numb to feel almost anything anymore, shuddering fitfully, her hands stuck into fists to hold onto her barely there flame, still staring up into the all encompassing eye in the sky, a makeshift veined mockery of the moon, pinprick pupil zoomed in on her. The claws tapped on her hips, a barely noticed feeling as the cold encircled her neck, a thick shadow curling against her windpipe and _squeezing_ , cutting off her already pained and hesitant breathing.

“Or, you can come into possession of someplace quite warm, own everything and anything you would want for. Shelter, food, warmth, safety,” his next words were hissed, quiet as Willow gasped for air, too weak to fight, only able to squeeze her faint lighter to her as shadows kept her standing, “and fire, of course, as much of it as you wish for.”

“All you have to do,” claws trailed up to her arms, back to her shoulders, and one brushed over the tendril tight around her neck and against her cheek, icy cold and completely ignoring her gasps, vision swimming with darkness that started to cover the Deerclops great eye as her lungs struggled and talons pressed frozen ice against her skin, “is take a step back, and come with me.”

And then the claws disappeared, shadow tendrils slithering away, and the mock moon in the sky slid shut with a breathy wheeze.

Willow collapsed to her knees, one frozen hand shakily pressing against her bruised throat as she gasped for air, lungs shuddering with the frozen air around her. The flame in her hands was gone, only an empty tin, but the fireflies darted around her, ignorant of the going ons of men.

For a moment she trembled, so very cold, colder than she's ever felt, and the trails of ice that her skin still felt twisted in her gut.

Her lips were numb, dry tongue and bruised throat not much help, but she was able to gasp in enough air to hiss out words, teeth clenching as she struggled upwards to wobble on her feet.

“T-thats-sss not, not much, ch, of a, a-a choice.”

And with one last shuddering breath Willow threw herself forward, a ragged battle cry as she stumbled towards where she knew the giant was, scattering fireflies as its great eye flashed open in the darkness.

Its icy groans of satisfaction rang throughout the winter forest long after the blood had dried on its fanged teeth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Either Woodie or Wolfgang is next btw.
> 
> Also, only Wilson and Charlie have ever accepted an offer of this calibre from Maxwell. May have to up the rating/do some tag work when I get to those chapters...


End file.
